


Decisions

by peoriapeoria



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Crossover, Crossovers: duesouth: Drama/Romance, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 05:28:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peoriapeoria/pseuds/peoriapeoria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look into the future of our Sentinel and his Guide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Decisions

**Decisions**  
  
by  
  
peoriapeoria 

  
Disclaimer: The characters of Detective James Ellison, Blair Sandburg, Captain Simon Banks and the notion of Sentinels belong to Pet Fly productions. Mounties belong to the Canadian government, though Ben is the creation of Paul Haggis and belongs to Alliance. I however continue to represent and protect the likeness of Tracy.  
Otherwise, if you don't know them, they are mine. Remember, I didn't get paid, and I didn't pay anybody. Fair use please, don't re-archive, etc.  
  
Knowledge of Due South is not required for the enjoyment of this story. Tracy appears in _Antipodes_ and _All the Queen's Men_ (among others) which are available at www.hexwood.com/dsa and AO3  
Otherwise, this is firmly in The Sentinel universe. Not part of either Haywire or Discoveries series.  
  
Warning: I'm not certain if this R or NC-17. If you are a minor, don't read this.  
If you have problems with long-term, same sex couples, this isn't for you. Value families, not 'family values'. Contains m/m intimacy and sex.  
  
\-------------------------------------  
  
[Autumn 2003]  
  
"Chief, I'm home." As soon as Jim was inside he could tell his partner wasn't in the loft. It was then he recalled the meet-and-greet Blair had at Rainier. *At least he wasn't already dressed for it.* When he'd left Jim to the paperwork, the younger man was a sticky, gritty mess. A chase through a snackfood processing plant and the following firefight outside had left the anthropologist with a complete coating of cemented-on gravel. Avoiding the surely demolished bathroom, Jim rifled through the mail stacked on the table.  
  
Sorting through it, he pulled out one envelope. _Ellison  & Sandburg_ A small, wry smile came to his lips. *Trust Tracy to make us sound like a law firm.* Noting the Chicago postmark he started to open it, before catching the 'open together' message written on the back. That was odd; usually Blair just read him the highlights, sparing him the latest anthropological findings and contentions scattered throughout. Setting the letter back down, he started on his pile of mail.  
  
=============================================================  
  
"That bad?" Jim looked up from the couch. After all this time he didn't understand why Blair stilled when agitated.  
  
"No." Blair set down the leather satchel, and walked over to the couch. "Just disappointing." He plopped down next to Jim. "I might as well have not gone."  
  
Jim wrapped an arm around the smaller man, resting his chin in the curls. "Didn't you have to go?"  
  
"Yeah." As one of the newest members of the department, his attendance was given.  
"I was really pumped, you know, but then..."  
  
"Didn't deliver?"  
  
"You could say that." The 'honored' guest had been completely incapable of intelligent discussion, thoroughly unpleasant and apparently drunk.  
  
Jim considered how quiet Blair was. *Never a good sign.* Rubbing the other man's arms, Jim breathed in deep. *Cheese?* Ignoring the traces under the shampoo, he gave Blair a squeeze. "We got a letter that should cheer you up." *Three, two*  
  
  
"Tracy and Ben?" His eyes brightened. "Where is it? What do they say?"  
  
"Hang on there, Chief. I had to wait for you. It said we should read it together."  
He pulled himself off the couch and brought the letter back, handing it to Blair. He settled back in, watching the younger man pull out his glasses.  
  
He started to read out loud, setting the enclosed envelope to one side. After the preamble, Blair started scanning through the letter quickly, too fast for Jim to read over his shoulder.  
  
"Blair? What is it?" Jim was nearly convinced he'd have heard the increase in heart rate and breathing without enhanced senses. Blair just passed him the letter.  
Jim started to read.  
  
=============================================================  
  
"What are you thinking, Chief?" Jim wasn't sure what _he_ was thinking. They'd discussed the subject repeatedly in the past three years. This was certainly a new twist.  
  
"I don't know. I really don't know." Blair started pacing. "It's just weird man, coming out of the blue like that. What about you, Jim?"  
  
"It's not something I had considered. Do you want to talk about it?"  
  
"I'm surprised Tracy said anything. He didn't have any business..."  
  
"Darwin, Tracy didn't make any promises. He knows we've been weighing options.  
Would you have rather not been given the chance to choose? I recall you scheming like I was a prize bull." Jim caught Blair when he drifted close.  
  
"Sorry. But we really don't know about the continuing prevalence of Sentinel genes."  
He pressed closer against the larger man. "I'd hate to think I studied the last one. Okay, so Tracy was just passing along the information." Blair started smiling, failing a valiant attempt for control.  
  
"What?" *What wickedly impish thought has crossed your mind?*  
  
"Just imagining what Ben would have said." After a brief pause both men started laughing, Jim clearly in the lead.  
  
"You," Jim had to pause for breath. "Are thoroughly twisted." He suspected they'd both be plagued by thoughts of a stammering Mountie. "So, do we discuss it?" Jim wondered where Blair would come down this time.  
  
"You?"  
  
Jim could virtually read discussions they had had on Blair's face. "I still think it is a terrible genetic trick. You, on the other hand, are a natural wonder." He emphasized his point with physical adoration, kissing and teasing. Righting the younger man, he said softly, "You'd be a good dad."  
  
Blair caught the undertone in those words. "Jim." It was nearly his Guide voice, and he put his left hand on the other man's shoulder.  
  
"Okay." He pulled Blair closer. "I'll focus on how lucky I am." *Not on the doors I closed for you.* "So?"  
  
"They'd have two parents, the option of knowing... I did read that part right?"  
  
  
Jim picked up the letter. "Quote, "They want to be able to say their fathers love each other as much as their moms. In case the kids decide to meet them." The letter," Jim gestured towards the unopened envelope, "gives more details. Chief, talk to me."  
  
"I just don't know."  
  
=============================================================  
  
It wasn't often that Blair got to watch Jim sleep. Silvered by the moonlight shining in, he was a study of planes. *Such a peaceful face.* Awake, the man was a living Atlas, Blair's personal Prometheus. Shouldering the tribe's problems without a second thought. Not showing what it cost him. Asleep, Jim was... Blair considered a moment.  
*Adorable.* He smiled at the notion. Six feet, two hundred pounds of adorable supercop. G-d he loved the man. Unable to resist any longer, Blair snuggled in, face pressed against Jim's neck and cheek, left hand feathering over the sleeping man's right side.  
  
"Ummmh." Sleepily the hand was caught and ran across one pec to be held in the center of the broad chest. "Whatcha thinking?" After several minutes of Blair tracing across his torso, Jim turned his face. "Sprite?"  
  
"They'd be siblings." Blair brushed his lips across the sensitive ear and rubbed his cheek in the short hair. "Jim?"  
  
The larger man rolled over partially. Rearranging the curly locks, he caressed the younger man's face. "Blair."  
  
"It's as good as it gets. Isn't it?" They'd discussed so many different possibilities.  
Donorship wasn't an option in the States, and Blair wouldn't have considered it for himself. Jim had vetoed adoption, and ethically Blair was opposed to surrogacy.  
  
  
"You want to discuss it."  
  
"Tomorrow." He pressed his lips gently against the big man's mouth, faintly drawing his finger tips along pale skin.  
  
=============================================================  
  
"Are you going to open it?" Blair had been worrying at the sealed envelope for some time now, and it was getting on Jim's nerves. *It's getting on Blair's nerves, and _that_ is getting on mine.* He heard the other man swallow, exhale and open the letter.  
  
"Jim, could... could you read it?" He held out the folded stationery.  
  
Stroking Blair's hair, he took the pages. "You okay, Chief?"  
  
"Sure." He saw Jim didn't believe him. "The letter..."  
  
"Right." Moving Blair so the smaller man could look at the letter at the same time, Jim read slowly. When he finished, he folded the pages and set them aside. "What do you think?"  
  
"Sounds like they are pretty stable and secure. Regular, yet flexible work hours, large support network--" Blair turned to face Jim. "Can we handle this? Knowing, and not being there..."  
  
"What was that one scheme you cooked up, Darwin?" Jim hugged Blair to rub away the sting of the comment. "Honestly, I don't have an answer. All I can say, is what you have already said. They would have two parents. They would be siblings.  
They would have a choice about whether to know us." *Something you didn't get.* He had to presume Naomi, and thus the man in question, didn't know who was Blair's father. "Whatever you decide, Blair." Jim enfolded the smaller man, filling his senses.  
  
=============================================================  
  
"Let's do it."  
  
"I thought we just did." A big hand combed through soft curls and skimmed across a hairy chest.  
  
Blair's visage flashed with poorly disguised, yet mirthful, frustration. *He's just too snuggly.* "We certainly did." Blair teased at the older man, kissing his face and drawing circles on his chest. "I was talking about the letter. If that's alright with you."  
  
Jim propped himself up. "You've thought this through?" He saw Blair nod his tousled head. "You can live with this?"  
  
Blair had turned the matter over every which way since they'd read the letter. It wasn't perfect. *Neither is our life.* Simply put, they went from one crisis to the next disaster so quickly it was at times hard to catch their breaths. "Yes."  
He knew Jim wanted him to have kids; he wanted Jim to have kids. *They'd be siblings.* That was the clincher. That, and them never thinking their fathers didn't care.  
  
  
Jim broke into a big smile. *Yes.* It wasn't perfect, but it was damn good. *Blair said 'yes'.* He leaned in for a long kiss. And another...  
  
=============================================================  
  
After sending back a letter of introduction and agreement, after signing paperwork at the lawyer's office, now they were at brass tacks. *Isn't this charming?* The small white room was anything but.  
  
Click. Jim grabbed his pants back together. *I locked that door.*  
  
"Hi." The whisper made him turn around.  
  
"Blair?" The younger man put a finger to his lips as he relocked the door. *Lab coat.* Where had he... *Someone left it unattended near Sandburg.* He couldn't quite restrain the laughter. "Do this a lot?" The utterly perplexed look on the bespectacled Blair was priceless.  
  
"Thought you'd like some help." Jim was shaking quietly. "If I was wrong..." His hand was stopped from reaching the doorknob.  
  
"Sorry. Remember the last time..." Jim caught hold of the white coat.  
  
*Ohh!* "Yeah, well..."  
  
"So you want to play doctor?"  
  
"Stimph!" Blair slipped behind the taller man. "At home." He could feel Jim shiver at the breath. "I want you to touch yourself, real lightly." Blair started to slowly unbutton Jim's shirt. "Just barely touch, your fingers should faintly brush along."  
He moved his own fingers slowly across the broad chest, before continuing on more buttons. "You getting hard for me?" He pulled the shirt off Jim's shoulders enough to expose part of the larger man's shoulder blades. "Jim." Sucking on a few of his own fingers, he traced the wet digits around the smooth chest. "Use your whole hand, now. Keep it open. Don't pump, stroke up. Only up." Licking the thumb and first two fingers on his other hand, Blair traced around, and around first one nipple, then the other. "Still with me? Goood. You can close your hand." Kissing Jim between the shoulders, he slipped out the very tip of his tongue, drawing it first one direction, and another, and another.  
  
"Blair." *G-d if you don't kill me.*  
  
"Go ahead, Jim." He snagged the barcoded cup to get it ready. "Both ways, but slowly." Blair sucked the fingers of his free hand in time to Jim. He ran the hand up Jim's stomach all the way to the neck. He teased the left nipple, and then the right, raising hard little nubs.  
  
"Blair."  
  
He sucked on his fingers, harder and faster, running them up Jim's front and quickly across his lips.  
  
*Blair.*  
  
"Right here." Blair slipped the cup into Jim's other hand so he could wrap one arm around the bucking man. "Come for me." He pinched one nipple. "For me, Jim."  
He pinched the other one.  
  
"Blair..."  
  
"Love you." He whispered it softly; and bit down on a shoulder.  
  
"BLAIRRRR."  
  
Steadying Jim, Blair took the cup away, snapping on the lid. "Your turn to help."  
  
  
=============================================================  
  
  
[Early 2004]  
  
"You're going for the whole year?"  
  
Jim was trying hard not to laugh. *Sounds like they are talking about following Phish, not a research trip.* Even if he'd meant not to listen in to Tracy's side of the conversation, he couldn't help himself. Dueling anthropologists, even if he didn't catch everything, were too much fun. He could thoroughly appreciate the kind of planning a year among the Inuit involved.  
  
"They're going with us." Tracy blithely rolled off.  
  
*What?* He'd gotten caught up with the flow of the conversation, and hadn't even thought about Regina and Robert. *A four year old and a two year old?*  
  
"Jim?"  
  
*Huh.* He realized that Blair had hung up the phone, and was looking at him intently.  
"Yeah, Chief?"  
  
=============================================================  
  
[June, 2004]  
  
Jim really wished this thing was over. *Strike that.* He was pleased that he and Stephen had patched things up enough for him to ask Jim to be his best man. He just didn't like how formal the event itself was. Between business contacts and 'friends of the family', Jim felt severely uncomfortable. Even though Blair was around, Jim was stuck at a different table, along with the other members of the wedding party.  
And _their_ dates.  
  
"So, Jimmy, you going to try settling down again?"  
  
He tried identifying the voice, eventually placing it and the man that went with it as some acquaintance of his father. "I'm off the market."  
  
"Can't let one bad merger turn you from it. Leave Stephen to carry on the line?"  
  
  
=============================================================  
  
[2005]  
  
*Blair.* Jim tried to continue working while the younger man made his way up to Major Crimes. *He's excited.* Truth be told, Jim was too. He'd known that Blair would get his tenure. Admittedly, Blair hadn't done as much fieldwork as some anthropologists, and his papers weren't as numerous as they might be. Still, the students loved him.  
Not because he was easy on them; Prof. Sandburg was affectionately known as a hard-ass. *Speaking of...*  
  
"Hi, James." Even though he whispered it low, he was careful in the precinct. "Um, how busy are you?"  
  
"Clearly too much to stay here." Simon grinned internally as Blair swallowed. *Can't believe that still works.* "Ellison, go home." Returning to his office, the large man started laughing. *Like anybody _doesn't_ know you're together.* Oh, five years ago it had been a shock. *Except to Darryl.* 'Duh, dad. No Blair-babes? Seriously.'  
  
"You heard the man. How about an early supper?" Jim heard the stomach rumble.  
"I'll take that as a yes."  
  
=============================================================  
  
It wasn't exactly late when they got back to the loft, though they had left-off stargazing when the moon got too high. "Let me just check through the mail." Jim quickly shuffled the pieces looking for any bills. How they managed to come right before they needed to be returned escaped him.  
  
*Chicago.* He didn't recognized the return address. Setting down the rest of the mail, he went over to the couch. "Blair, could you open this?"  
  
Brandishing the wooden opener, the smaller man settled in Jim's lap. After several flourishes, he had the envelope unsealed. "All vanquished."  
  
Jim pulled out the contents, opening the folded piece of card.  
  
Inside were two pictures. No letter. Two baby pictures.  
  
"Jim." He leaned back, looking between the two photos. Clearly they weren't hospital snaps. At least he thought those were still black and white, or were again. He turned around. "Jim..."  
  
"Yeah, I'm here." They weren't exactly twins. The one labeled 'boy' already showed signs of freckles across his nose. Still, it was uncanny.  
  
=============================================================  
[2006]  
  
*I'm really going to lose it.* Simon focused on the instigators of this blow-out barbeque for Darryl before he headed off for his residency. *Now we've _all_ entered the Sandburg Zone.*  
  
"You okay there? Or are you still calculating loan payments?" Joel stepped up holding his laden plate. "You're going to miss out on the ostrich if you aren't careful." He nodded to Jim and Blair as he enjoyed some of their cooking.  
  
"Yeah." It was hard to think he'd ever been jealous of Blair's ability to communicate with Darryl. *Kid's a natural.* As much as the thought of little Sandburg's filled him with an urge to insure Greater Cascade, somehow their absence... It wasn't something he could put words to.  
  
Joel headed away from the choked up Simon and drifted back to the happy cooks. *You've come a long way.* From originally trusting only a select group, Jim and Blair had pretty much become an open secret. *Like you could hide all that light under a bushel.* Not that that kept some S.O.Bs from trying. *Like Blair shouldn't coach youth league pitchers.* He was glad the parents eventually decided they disliked the blowhard assistant coach much more.  
  
=============================================================  
  
[2008]  
  
*Chicago.* Tracy. Blair almost had the letter open before he noticed the return address. *It could be Regina, or Robert for that matter.* Could be another letter writing assignment. *Could be.*  
  
"Chief?!" When he saw the envelope hanging he understood why Blair's heart was skipping. "Want me to open it?" *Hard to believe he's nearly forty when he nods like that.* Jim led them both to the couch. Ripping the last bit of flap holding it shut, he handed it back to Blair.  
  
Pulling out the contents he held his breath. *This is so hard.* There were two pictures within the folded piece of card. He handed the black and white of two newborns to Jim. *Four.* The other picture was of two toddlers, with the babies in their laps.  
  
Truth be told, even with Sentinel senses, pictures of newborns all looked the same to Jim. Looking at the photo Blair still held, he was able to match the baby with the red shock of curls with the 'boy', and the tow-head with the 'girl', pictures.  
  
  
"How old... how old do you think the pictures are?"  
  
"Don't know, Sprite." To him it looked like there was only a two-year age difference between the sets of children. "Perhaps a year." *Or more.* There was no way of knowing how quickly they had received those first, and until now, only photos. "You okay?"  
  
"It's just so hard. When we get pictures. When we don't get pictures. That doesn't make any sense."  
  
"Sure it does." He took Blair's hands into his own. "These," he pointed to the color photo, "show us what we're missing. And as much as that hurts, it's more than we have when new ones don't come."  
  
=============================================================  
  
"Blair," he smiled at the mumphling sound coming from his side, "do you regret it?" He looked down at the limp mass replacing the dervish Blair had so recently been.  
  
"Never with you." He scooted in closer, finding a more comfortable curl along, around and across the large warmth. *Nice pillow.*  
  
"I meant the kids..."  
  
Blair opened his eyes wide. "Jim. This is for the best. It hurts, but it's right.  
Anything else would be selfishness. Think about it. They have two well-defined parents who are together. We thought this out."  
  
"Because our lives are so dangerous."  
  
*Guilt attack.* "I'm right where I want to be. I love you. I know you keep having these visions of me living a nice safe life with a wife and kids in the backyard.  
The truth? I attract trouble, fear commitment, am insecure, and can't stop working on my own. Absolute best case scenario I'd be roaming from one field project to another, completely alienating the kids." Even though he couldn't see Jim's face in the dark, he knew the stunned look that would be there. "If you mean, 'do I regret having kids at all', again that's a pretty selfish question, considering."  
  
"You left out the dog." After big blinks, Blair started laughing. *Music.* "How do you get inside my head like that?"  
  
"Part of my job description. Searching the wilds for pre-civilized man." Blair found himself being rolled over and tickled most soundly on the back of the knees.  
"Caveman." That earned him several neck nips before his arms were released. "That is like _so_ unfair." He levered himself up to for a quick kiss, rubbing his hands in the center of Jim's pecs. *New sound.*  
  
Jim scooped the smaller man up, draping Blair over him, keeping his wrists in hand.  
"What did I ever do to deserve you?"  
  
"Must've been pretty bad." After that, Jim didn't let him make any sounds as complex as speech.  
  
=============================================================  
  
[Winter, 2008]  
  
"What have you got there?" Jim was surprised to even see Blair, much less sitting with a box about eight inches square, gently turning it in his hands. *Guess even Professor Sandburg can't stay on campus indefinately.* In the weeks leading up to finals Blair had extended his office hours, run review sections and otherwise been there for his students. Enough to make Jim a little jealous.  
  
"It's a present. Trying to decide whether to open it now or later." *Smirk all you want, Big Guy.* Unable to contain himself he ripped through the brown paper and snapped the inner tape. "Regina did it all by herself. Tracy just mailed it."  
  
  
On top was a small card with a menorah. Looking at the writing inside he then passed it to Jim. "Sure hand for her age." He tried to think of the last time anyone had sent him Hanukkah gifts. Part of him wanted to stretch it out. However the card dividers didn't pose much of a threat to his curiosity.  
  
"She sent you frogs?" Blair held two small origami frogs in his hand.  
  
Blair carefully placed them on the coffee table. "And elephants, giraffes, penguins, camels, lizards, panthers, and walrusi." He listed as he removed them pair by pair.  
  
  
"Walrusi?" Jim looked at the strange menagerie of paper animals.  
  
*Really.* Blair double-checked the box before preparing to bust it down. Finding another card. This one a little picture of Noah and the Ark.  
  
=============================================================  
  
  
[June, 2009]  
  
Jim was running late and he still needed to shower and change before he picked up Blair. *Great, yet another thing to do. Shop for a new truck.* He wasn't going to think about that. He was taking his best guy out. He increased his pace up the stairs.  
  
As he was about to open the door he noticed the package propped there. Focusing, he saw that it was addressed _Dr. Blair Sandburg_. *Okay, it is too big for the mailbox.* Or at least too big to get back out of the mailbox without the lettercarrier's key. Jim focused more intently. The smell was consistent with their regular mailwoman.  
*Paranoid.* It was simply a package. *Nice to know for sure.* He scooped it up and dropped it on the table before heading to the shower.  
  
=============================================================  
  
"Chief, heads up." He watched as Blair caught the keys without looking up from his book. "Sorry I'm late."  
  
The book closed and Blair looked at his watch. "Jim, come on!" He bundled out of his chair and started pulling at the larger man. "We'll lose our reservation."  
  
  
"I called. It's okay." *Just.* Fortunately, Thursday wasn't _that_ busy.  
  
=============================================================  
  
Blair was a little giggly as they got back into the loft. He wasn't sure who was more surprised, Jim or the waiter. Not that Jim should be. *He's seen how I can eat.*  
  
"Okay, King Neptune, in we go." There had been a time Jim just thought it was because the kid hadn't had a decent meal in weeks. *Where does he put it all?* Only Blair would order a seafood challenge platter after going through appetizers. *Scratch that. Only Blair would _finish_ said platter, after appetizers. And still want dessert.*  
  
"You didn't think I could do it." Of course, if he hadn't, their dinner bill would have been rather high.  
  
"Actually, I was getting jealous."  
  
"Oh, really." So toying with his food worked. *It's a good thing to savor your meal.*  
  
"Really."  
  
"Then maybe I should do something about that." Blair stepped real close to Jim and started lapping below the collar bone. Eventually, he worked his way to the larger man's mouth.  
  
Breathless, Jim pulled away. "What's that old rule. No swimming for an hour after eating?"  
  
"Jim..."  
  
"Just kidding." Jim caught Blair off-guard and latched onto his open mouth. Right now, he tasted like a very exotic cold salad. *Glad he didn't have the chocolate cheesecake.* Jim tried not to associate the unfamiliar tastes with some of the things Blair had had.  
  
"What's that over there?"  
  
*What?* Jim looked over to the table. "Just some mail. I think it's computer disks." Next thing he knew, Blair had left his arms and was grabbing the package.  
  
  
"Sorry, Big Guy." Blair quickly stripped off the brown paper and opened the carton.  
"Don't think it's disks." Blair brought the box over to the couch, slicing into the tape with a thumbnail. Open, he pulled back the tissue paper.  
  
It was a tie. A dark tie with cheery handprints. "Jim."  
  
=============================================================  
  
If Jim had wondered who was sending the pictures, he didn't any longer. *Tracy.*  
Three things tipped him off. The first was the tie's length. Second, the color choices. Third, that it was printed before being sewn. *Anybody else would have used a standard kit and primary colors.*  
  
"I'm sorry you didn't get one." Who would have thought a tie actually _could_ be a good Fathers' Day present? *I am not going to cry...*  
  
"You want me to read it?"  
  
"What?" Blair looked up at Jim.  
  
"Want me to read it?" Jim watched as Blair got out of bed and brought the tie, still in its box. Blair slid back next to him, offering his prize.  
  
"See this one? And this one? And this one?"  
  
"Yeah..." *Jim?*  
  
"Those are the right hand to these." Jim pointed out the matching hands in another color.  
  
"The colors aren't random?" The hands were all so small, though clearly some were bigger than others.  
  
"No. Each color has a big left and a small right or the other way around." Jim thought about how difficult it must have been to deal with four pairs of inked up hands. *No wonder there is just the one.*  
  
"Can you show me the other sets?" He watched as Jim pulled together four sets of hands. He started to smile. "Did you notice?"  
  
"What, Sprite?"  
  
"The left hand matches with the right hand of a different child than the right hand matches to a left." He heard Jim's questioning sound. "Like a posey ring."  
  
=============================================================  
  
[August, 2009]  
  
"Jim, sorry I'm late." Blair shifted the carry-out bags to unlock the door. He'd been dealing with students trying to get into his classes, and other students looking for permission to drop them to take different ones. "Jim, can you help me here?"  
*Wonder where he is?* Blair sat the food near the door, and slipped the satchel strap off his shoulder. Then he took a couple of trips to place the bags on the table.  
*Better put this in the den.* He picked up the satchel and headed for the French doors.  
  
"Jim." He was sitting behind the couch, his back slumped over. Blair immediately went into his Guide voice. *He hasn't zoned out in ages.* He ignored the question of how long Jim had been zoned; what worried him more was him not coming out of it when he'd come home. "I'm right here, Big Guy. Must be pretty interesting not to answer me. Come out of it and then you can tell me, okay?"  
  
Slowly, Jim came around. "What are you doing home so early?"  
  
"Early?"  
  
"Actually, I better be getting back to the station. Finish up some paperwork."  
He tried to get up. *I'm not _that_ old.*  
  
"What time do you think it is?" Jim looked at him like it was a silly question.  
"You zoned. Big time. I should have been here over an hour ago."  
  
"But you have classes today." *G-d, that means...* "I just came home because this was delivered at the station." He tried standing again, but only managed to get his legs untangled. "That was -- about two p.m."  
  
*Hours.* "What is it?" Jim still had his arms half wrapped around the object.  
Blair looked at the box. *James Ellison. c/o Major Crimes.* The return address sticker was for some gallery. "Who sent you a gift?" Maybe some long-lost buddy a bit early for the big 5-0.  
  
Jim handed it over and managed to pry himself up using the couch. "Guess that was really stupid of me."  
  
*Oh, man.*  
  
"Blair."  
  
*Oh, man.*  
  
Jim reached over to Blair. "Let's get to the couch."  
  
Blair helped Jim around, his attention still focused on the piece in his hands.  
"Jim..."  
  
"Right here. It was supposed to come at the same time as your tie." According to the enclosed letter from the artist, the casted arms were guaranteed unbreakable under normal conditions, thought they should only be cleaned with plain soap and water. The piece captured a moment of a four-person clapping game, arms weaving in and out of the others.  
  
It was too easy to see why Jim had zoned. Four small sets of hands and arms...  
*Now I'm going to do it.* "Who? Why?" If he kept talking, he wouldn't focus too tightly. "Jim?"  
  
"I don't know." He was positive it had to be Tracy. *But I don't _know_ it.* Clearly the professor wanted to remain anonymous. "Somebody who wants us to share, if only from a distance." He thought a little about how Ben and Tracy handled parenthood from an implicit closet. *Guess Tracy knows something about distance.*  
  
=============================================================  
  
[2012]  
  
"Hello, Sweetie." Naomi gave Blair a squeeze while giving Jim a peck on the cheek.  
"You didn't have to meet me at the airport."  
  
"How long are you staying?" Jim hoped it was longer than last time. Blair got pretty upset when his mom came and went too quickly. Even at sixty, she couldn't seem to stop travelling.  
  
"A week, if that isn't a problem."  
  
*Can't you at least stay for his birthday?*  
  
=============================================================  
[2015]  
  
If he had thought turning fifty was bad, he didn't know _what_ to consider this.  
  
  
"Jim. Guess the kid has what it takes."  
  
"Told you uniforms were slow. Take you the whole twenty years?"  
  
Jim tuned the party down, acknowledging people by rote. *It can't be that long.*  
'Yes, but the correct Gaelic pronunciation of my family name is McKay.' *Not twenty years.*  
  
"Guess this means they like me." Major Crimes, they had been easy to turn around.  
*Easy?* Comparatively, anyway. Maybe because they saw him the most, maybe because they knew Jim the best. *Seems it's spread.* "Jim, that was a joke."  
  
"Sorry, Blair." Twenty years. It was still hard to believe Blair was old enough to be an academic, despite the white that had slipped into his long curls while Jim wasn't looking. Somehow the glasses he now wore all the time just made him seem younger. "You know how I am."  
  
"Come on. Taggart pried himself away from his retirement for this."  
  
"Sure he didn't think you'd be cooking chili?" He let a smile slip. "Come on, I think I see Simon hiding over there."  
  
=============================================================  
  
[2017]  
  
"Jim?" He'd been quiet most of the day and it was worrying Blair. Robert's visit had ended with them seeing him off on the next leg of his trip. Still heading away from home.  
  
*Hum?* "Sorry, just lost on memory lane."  
  
Blair settled onto the arm of the couch, kissing Jim on the scalp. "You know it isn't the same thing." Blair might not entirely agree, but he could understand Tracy wanting to get Robert out of Chicago. "It's not like he hates going to New Zealand."  
He stroked at the fringe of hair at the back.  
  
"I didn't exactly hate military school." Other than it being at his father's whim, and it completely trashing his senior year. *The instructors shouted less.* "It's just..."  
  
"That they're both stubborn." Physically, Robert was Tracy's son, from the red tangle of curls to the fluid way he caried himself. For all that he was very much like the Mountie. "Maybe he'll feel less need to rebel."  
  
"Less like he's a failure?" Okay, that was a projection. Jim had never been in his father's good graces except when it served to punish Stephen. "I think they don't talk enough as it is." *Robert doesn't talk, and Ben just listens.*  
  
*No, they don't.* If they did, maybe Robert wouldn't think Ben expected him to follow in his sled tracks. Even being a godfather was hard.  
  
=============================================================  
  
[2022]  
  
"I hope you understand you are getting weird in my old age." *What have you done with Jim?* The balloons in his office had been a lot of fun, but he wasn't sure about the bedroom being redone in tinsel. The icicles were bound to get everywhere.  
  
  
"I think I'll take that as a compliment." Jim started removing Blair's excess clothes.  
"After all you are a past master of weird." *How many buttons do you need?* "But stop calling yourself old."  
  
"Just the facts, man." With that Blair found himself in the center of the bed.  
"Jim. Jim, stop that right now!" There was nothing like being tickled while your navel was licked. *Good thing.* "Why _do_ you do that?"  
  
"Because you wriggle so pretty." Jim stroked through the now nearly white chest hair. While it had for a time looked like Blairís curls would follow, they had settled into a silvery-gray for the most part.  
  
*Blair, you are in big trouble.* Some time, he wasn't quite sure when, Jim had picked up this little sliver of a smile that was mostly eye twinkle. *And it gets him anything he wants.* Blair got his own wicked thought.  
  
"Blair, where are you going?"  
  
Not answering, Blair went down to the kitchen. *Now where are those dragees?*  
  
=============================================================  
  
He wondered what Jim was going to do this evening. *He's made the whole year our anniversary.* When Blair had pointed it out he'd simply gotten 'You wouldn't make me pay for being stupid. Let me rephrase that.' "What in the..." The loft was lit entirely by mini-lights and candles.  
  
"Blair, twenty-five years ago I was too freaked out to woo you properly." Taking him by the hand, Jim lead him to the table and pulled out the chair. "Fortunately, you had more sense than me." He slid the chair back in. "I can't think of what these past years would have been like otherwise."  
  
=============================================================  
  
Blair was playing hooky. *Much better reason than profs ever had to call me in at last minute.* He laughed. *I think that would have given me a seizure. 'You've gotta cover my class; I've had the stuffing loved outta me.'* Jim simply put had seduced him repeatedly, in a manner that he could never have done twenty-five years ago. Even if he hadn't been freaked completely out of his mind.  
*Twenty-five years ago, _I_ would've completely freaked if he could have.* Not to mention probably rupturing something. Experience really did have at least one or two things up on youth.  
  
However, it couldn't keep Jim from having to meet with the mayor, regardless of it being his day off. *At least this one doesn't hate him.* Much to the contrary; she was quite happy with the Chief of Police's new policies which had significantly reduced the frequency and severity of 'high-profile, high-stakes, high-powered' crimes.  
*Though I think I could reward him much better.*  
  
Until Jim could get back from the luncheon, Blair was on his own. After some lounging, that had meant showering, tidying up, and semi-reading some journals. The result were several, much more interesting, flights of fancy bearing only the most tangential resemblance to the dry articles his eyes supposedly were focused on at the time.  
He was thoroughly engrossed in one of these when he heard the knock at the door.  
  
  
"Um, yeah. Just a second." Straightening his dressing gown over his pajama bottoms he headed to the door.  
  
"Good that you're here, Dr. Sandburg. Piece of certified mail for you." Shirley quickly took in the sight of the older man, deftly covering with the presentation of the signature pad. Barefoot and his hair free, the professor was about the sexiest man on the route.  
  
Blair signed off and received both that letter and the rest of the mail. Closing the door, he walked back to the couch. _Jim & Blair_ *Nice calligraphy.* He flipped through the rest of the mail, not seeing much of immediate interest.  
  
=============================================================  
  
"Hi, James." He purred as the taller man pulled back from the couch. *That is definitely how to wake up.*  
  
He watched as his love stretched ever so slowly. "Got bored?"  
  
"Just resting up." Blair moved into a sitting position. "How was the meeting?"  
He patted the seat next to him.  
  
"Incredibly lonely." He was not supposed to be called in today, barring nuclear terrorism. *At least then Blair would have joined me.* True, it was selfish, but he missed having a reason for Sandburg with him at work. "Otherwise, fine. Just wish they could plan these things better."  
  
"Goes with the job, Jim. In addition to dealing with the bad guys, you have to take your kudos." Speaking of which... "Oh, there's some sort of invitation that came today." Blair started teasing buttons free. "So, how would you have planned today?"  
  
"Making an invitation of your own?" *Good innocent act.*  
  
=============================================================  
  
"Jim, you probably should check the mail." Blair chortled at the 'again?' that came down the stairs. "Not until _after_ supper." Blair wondered if they could suspend a few of the house rules for the night... "You know, the post. Pony express, neither sleet nor dark of night..."  
  
"Thought that was our motto."  
  
*Oh, G-d.* Eyes hooded with sleep, his bare chested Sentinel still looked like a god. "Sumerian." At the 'huhm?', he realized he'd said it outloud. "Just trying to figure out which pantheon you slipped out of."  
  
"Sumerians have a lot of bald, aging cop gods?" Jim pawed through the mail, looking for the piece Blair had referred to earlier.  
  
"Not with greying cup-bearers." As Jim couldn't understand how incredibly sexy he was with, or without, hair, this was the shortest way to quell self-disparging remarks. "So, who's it from?"  
  
"You better turn off the stove."  
  
=============================================================  
  
[Summer, 2022]  
  
Blair watched as the tall red-headed man approached, waving at both of them. "You still snowing them with that respectable act?" There was _no_ way he was going white at only the temples.  
  
"Guess they never checked with the mates back home." Once the luggage was collected, Tracy led them out to the car. "Think the company I keep would clue them in. Always having cops over..."  
  
"What do they do, have the anthropologists break it up?" Jim knew the reputation Chicago's only authentic hangi had developed.  
  
Blair fought the mental image of khaki-clad, pith-helmeted explorers. And lost.  
So much he couldn't even think of a snappy retort.  
  
"And miss the research opportunity? Mind you, the fight for the last beers would be pretty fierce." *Good, keep them laughing and they won't have time for nerves.*  
  
  
=============================================================  
  
*What if I'm a disappointment?* Blair wondered if he shouldn't have taken out the earrings.  
  
"Stop futzing." Jim smoothed out the tie. Not that he wasn't nervous. These were grown kids they were going to meet. He had to repeat that he was not his father, and they had no reason to automatically be set against him.  
  
"Gentlemen." Tracy smiled at the slightly dazed expressions. "They want to meet you. Go on, it's not a review committee." Pushing them towards the door, Tracy quickly retreated down the hall.  
  
Looking at each other, Jim opened the door at Blair's nod. To be met with four pairs of eyes trained on them. Blue, aqua-green, hazel, and green.  
  
  
  
Decisions end.  



End file.
